


Your eyes were open.

by softgrungeprophet



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Blood and Injury, Character Death, Fairies, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Sexual, Resurrection, Stabbing, Temporary Character Death, transversal impalement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-13 21:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14756771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softgrungeprophet/pseuds/softgrungeprophet
Summary: Maybe if he remembered anything from the past, Link could've understood a little better...





	1. Link's Point of View

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, just wanted to say, if anyone has suggestions or tags for this as far as rating and whatnot goes, I'd really appreciate the input. I've gone for a mature rating and the graphic violence tag just to be on the safe side.
> 
> I try not to be super graphic in my writing, but this still starts off immediately with Link being skewered on a sword and dying, so like, it's still pretty gruesome. Just fair warning. The title might be pushing it a little, and I might change that if I need to.
> 
> A notes section is included as the third chapter if you want to read a bit about my thought process for this. I also added Beedle's POV as a second chapter.

Link shuddered—a full body convulsion, a seize of muscles and trembling just as he loosed an arrow into the bokoblin's glowing eye. Too late. They hit the ground at the same time, each dropping their shield. Link squinted against the eruption of glimmering purple dust. His hand grazed the hilt of the broadsword, the guard just shy of pressed against his ribs. He couldn't muster the strength... A slight twinkling sound drew his attention to the fairy hovering beside his face, light bright in his eyes. But it couldn't do anything until he died, and with the blade protruding through his back... It might not be any use.

He reached up, weakly. The fairy lit on his finger. Its light pulsed.

What a gentle little thing.

Link raised his pinky and traced a small U-shape in the air. A thank you. His hand trembled—too much effort to keep it aloft, so he let it lower to the damp grass and mud at his waist. Warm... his hands and feet tingled. So lightheaded. His head lolled as he fought the urge to vomit, vision crackling into darkness. Like little stars in his pounding skull. Everything so drawn and tight, and that bright pinprick right at his eyes. At least the more dazed and hazy he got, the less pain he felt.

Muffled silence.

With a ragged gasp, Link jerked awake. Where was he? What time was it? Everything hurt. The familiar smell of fairy dust tickled his nose and he sneezed violently. And that hurt too. He clutched his stomach, rolling onto his side with a whimper.

"Link!" A familiar voice. "You're awake!" And there was Beedle, pressing the back of his hand to Link's forehead and encouraging him to lay on his back. "Take it easy, okay? You were really..." His voice dwindled off before he forced a smile. "How do you feel?"

Link gave him a _look_.

"Point taken." Beedle put his hands up, before settling back down beside the bedroll, leaning his elbow against his knee and his chin against his fist. He watched Link silently a moment, then sighed. "I put your clothes out in the river to soak but... I think they might be ruined." He laughed, tight and nervous. "It's easier to lift the stain when it's just a little bit of blood, not..."

Gently, Link reached out—a little clumsy, a little uncoordinated, weak—and put his hand on Beedle's leg.

Beedle leaned away and rubbed his face. He pushed his hands back through his hair with another sigh, quieter now. His bangs flopped back in his face as he closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back on his hands. He looked down at Link. He seemed... tired... Dressed differently, too. A baggy tunic and unfamiliar, frayed trousers. Bare feet.

Link frowned, and looked down at himself. He wore his loose, warm clothes, the pink doublet and the long white shirt. Felt like he was pantsless though, which... he couldn't really blame Beedle for. Most of his clothes fit so tightly, it probably would have been difficult to get them onto someone unconscious. Or... well. Dead. How awful... Link craned his neck to look into the spindly trees and grass behind Beedle. In the dim morning light, patches of the grass glinted reddish brown. A bloodstained sword lay nearby. He could just make out the dirt road.

"You scared me."

SORRY. Link turned his hand inward, a small curve.

"No—" Beedle reached for Link's hand, clasping it between his palms. "I don't mean—it's not—you didn't do anything." He squeezed. "Just be more careful... dummy." He smiled. Not a particularly happy smile, but tender, at least. His forehead crinkled, as his face scrunched up.

Oh, dear.

DON'T CRY. Link slapped at Beedle's arm, mustering his softest puppy-dog expression. HAPPENS ALL THE TIME.

"What?!" Beedle clutched Link's wrist. "That makes me feel worse!!"

Link widened his eyes—he lunged up and grabbed Beedle around the shoulders, pulling him down with him. NO—he had to pat Beedle's back, instead of his own chest, but the point came across. Surprisingly strong arms wrapped around him—though really, should he have been surprised at Beedle's strength? That bag must weigh fifty pounds at least...

Most of Link's pain had dissipated, his muscles presumably saturated by the fairy's healing magic. Still a little sharp, but... fine. And Beedle was so warm.

Not to mention, no tears. Steady breaths on his neck...

"Link..." Beedle turned his face against the bedroll, whispering, ear-to-ear— "Have you ever had to... Have you seen a person... I..." He stopped. Hesitant, and slow. "Your eyes were open." His arms tightened around Link, briefly. Then he relaxed, probably concerned about hurting him. Quiet exhalations. Link could just hear the rustling of leaves as a cool breeze slipped between the trees, through the grass. The sound of the river, nearby. Birds chirping. Link brushed his fingers through Beedle's hair. Hopefully soothing. Beedle didn't say anything more.

Maybe if he remembered anything from the past, Link could've understood a little better... So used to his own grave injury and revival he thought nothing of it, but in recent memory, not once had he found himself in a position where he needed to even _see_ the corpse of a friend... Let alone un-impale them.

He was fine! Felt great, even. Could barely recall bleeding out in the mud. He was used to it—well, usually he didn't stay dead for longer than a few seconds... But still. He'd probably forget it within a few weeks. Could the same be said for Beedle? Beedle, just a traveling salesman who liked bugs and conversation? Who'd probably never fought a day in his life? Robust as he was, what could have prepared him to pull a sword from his friend's dead body on the vague, sparkling promise of a fairy?

Link hummed and continued stroking the back of Beedle's neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual the ALL CAPS is (hylian) sign language. in HSL you tap your chest with your palm to say "No," so that's what Link hitting Beedle on the back was. 
> 
> This ended up hurt/comfort in like the ENTIRELY opposite direction it should have been huh... Link literally died but here he is, comforting the dude who saved his life. whoops.


	2. Beedle's Point of View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Link's bruised, livid cheek against his shoulder, he found it hard to focus. Hard to hold back nausea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd add Beedle's POV.  
> Fair warning, where the first chapter was gruesome, this is a little more graphic. Not violent, really... but definitely involves a lot of blood.

Beedle whistled to himself as he walked, bag weighing heavy against his back but nothing he wasn't used to. The early morning, pre-sunrise air filled him with freshness and vigor. The birds chirped, dew glistened, and a small prick of light sparkled off ahead. Maybe a firefly or something. He squinted as he approached. It was just off the road, not too much of a detour.

A foul smell met him, equal parts metallic and septic. The firefly—no, fairy? flitted about, almost anxious in its motions. And finally, just as the sun crested the horizon, Beedle made out the shape in the grass. A body, slumped over... face obscured and a blade thrust up into the air from its back, caked in dried blood. Beedle stumbled back from it, swallowing a tense noise. He let his pack slide from his back and land on the ground with a thud. He had to help this person—the fairy, maybe it could help, if he could just get them into a better position—

No.

Beedle covered his mouth and nose with one hand, looking away sharply. Pale, drained skin and glazed eyes. A face he knew. His legs felt weak, but he steeled himself for what he had to do...

He got down on his knees, pulling Link's stiff body into a semi-upright position. Beedle breathed as shallowly as possible. With Link's bruised, livid cheek against his shoulder, he found it hard to focus. Hard to hold back nausea. But he got a hand on the hilt of the sword, and pulled. It stuck a little, caught beneath a rib, and he had to pause to collect himself, mouth sour. But, hands shaking, he got the blade out—tossed the broadsword away, where it landed harmless in the grass.

The fairy twinkled, as Beedle let Link's body fall back into the dried, cracked mud. It flitted over his discolored form, dropping glittering dust that tickled Beedle's nose and smelled almost like burning hair. Still better than the smell of blood and bile and bodily fluids.

Link's eyelids fluttered closed, a relief to Beedle's racing heart until blood welled up from the wound in his abdomen, sudden and red, accompanied by the smoothing of color across his skin. The dissolution of bruises and brief reddening of cheeks before the color drained from his face once more. Frantic, Beedle pressed his hands against Link's injury, as though he could stop the bleeding somehow. Instead, it soaked his hands red and hot and sticky, and he made a noise in the back of his throat.

Quietly singing, like tiny bells, the fairy drifted back across Link's body, under Beedle's nose. The flow of blood slowed—or, at least, he thought so. He couldn't quite tell. But Link seemed to be regaining color again, though not quite breathing. His lips were blue. Beedle pulled Link up into his arms again, though this time his limbs flopped and his head slid off of Beedle's shoulder. An improvement, somehow.

Thankful for his long days spent walking, Beedle hauled Link up, lifting with his legs, shifting until he cradled the young man like a baby. Link's head hung back over Beedle's arm.

Beedle kicked his backpack ahead of him. It rolled along with each tap of his foot, just a few paces away, toward a small riverside clearing, slightly sheltered by trees. The sun rose in earnest, now, sending golden beams lengthwise along the ground and sparkling off the water. Beedle knelt beside the river, propping Link up against a rock.

He hesitated... But he had to. He removed the fingerless leather gloves and arm wrappings first, the arm guard, the blue tunic, the white undershirt, baring Link's bloodied skin to the morning air. Off with everything else as well. Beedle grabbed a cloth rag and some soap from his bag, and a small camping set so he could boil water to clean both dried and drying blood.

Link breathed shallowly, unsettlingly slow and quiet, almost nothing. Every once in a while, he let out a strange wheeze or squeak as Beedle moved him to reach around his back, or put a little more pressure than intended on his stomach. The fairy hadn't left yet, and circled above their heads. Beedle dragged Link over to the edge of the river and half submerged them both, letting the running water wash across their bodies, to catch any stray grime and wash away soap residue. He was careful to hold Link's head above water.

Once satisfied that he'd done the best he could, Beedle patted Link dry with a rough but fairly absorbent towel he always kept on hand, and rummaged through Link's stuff for something he could wear. Rolls of hose and tights... No, his hands shook too much, and wet skin didn't meet well with such fabrics. He found Link's pink, padded doublet and cream-colored undershirt and bundled him up. Took his own bedroll from his beetle-shaped bag and laid it out on a fairly soft, flat area of grass. He made sure Link was comfortable and secure before returning to the river's edge.

A glance over his shoulder reassured him that the fairy still hovered over Link, twinkling just above his gently flushed face.

Beedle stripped, shivering slightly in the cool breeze. He used a thin, sturdy rope to draw a line across the river, and fastened Link's clothes as well as his own probably-ruined top and shorts to the line. He rubbed soap into some of them, hoping it might help draw the blood out of the threads, then turned the soap on himself. Cold water and lathering bubbles... A bird croaked from the bushes nearby. Once satisfied he'd gotten himself suitably clean, Beedle pulled himself up onto the shore and went about getting dried and dressed. All he had were some old, worn clothes, normally reserved for sleeping. Baggy and patched... Better than nothing though.

Finally, he sat beside Link's still form. The fairy had gone... he tried not to dwell on the mental image seared into his thoughts. Mottled skin... staring eyes...

Without warning, a hoarse, grating gasp wracked Link—he was alive after all! Oh, thank goodness.

"Link! You're awake!"


	3. Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some of my thought process and the mini-timeline of this fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies in advance for my stream of conscious manner of typing.

This is equal parts summary and explanation of key moments...

From a like, lore standpoint or whatever I imagine the fairies' healing magic can probably push out small foreign bodies like arrowheads, and purge certain poisons and whatnot... But being impaled on a sword seems a bit much for a fairy to handle on their own so it would either be, you stay dead, or you get resurrected and then die again because hey there's still a sword in you. but who knows, maybe it would heal around the sword. But I guess, there's that whole thing with the Yiga right? where they can one hit KO you and bypass things like fairies and mipha's grace?? That's what the wiki says anyway. So I guess they DO have limits in the game, to some extent.

I chose beedle for this NOT because of shipping but because he's always wandering. kass was another possible choice. it ended up kinda shippy anyway lmfao....  What can I say, I just think it's cute.

Basically my thoughts are, like... Blue bokoblin impales Link with a soldier's broadsword or similar short, stabby sword. Fairy isn't a complete fool and knows if it resurrects Link he'll just keep dying, so it lets him stay dead. Probably a day or two later, Beedle sees the fairy floating in the grass off to the side of the road, sees blood, and finds Link's dead body, and is UNDERSTANDABLY totally freaked out about it but manages to keep it together enough to process the situation. Pulls the sword out of him—at which point the fairy sprinkles Link with its magical healing dust.

But since Link's been completely fucked up, bled dry, and all that fun stuff, it's not instant happy fun times. But Link begins to heal, you know, is essentially in a mini-coma. The whole thing with the renewed bleeding is like--well, okay, so Link probably didn't lose ALL of his blood because the sword wasn't removed but since it had been a few days since he died, I figured most of it would have settled and clotted by that time, so maybe a little would ooze out when Beedle takes the sword out but he wouldn't like, bleed much.

But!! I also figured that since the fairy returned him to life, or, close to it by that point, probably one of the first things to happen would be reversing rigor and livor mortis. So he starts bleeding a bunch until the fairy manages to seal the actual wound and start working on some deeper healing. So that's what's up with the blood in the second chapter. ALSO, frankly, Link's eyes probably should have been closed in death because presumably he would have lost consciousness before dying, so his eyes would have closed first. But there's probably a world in which he could die of blood loss before losing consciousness? idk

All that happens, Beedle carries him a little further off the road, into some small clearing by the river, and gets his clothes off, cleans all the blood etc. and leaves Link long enough to put both of their clothes into the river on a line, hoping to lift the stains by soaking. Too bad he doesn't have any dish soap. Really does wonders. Anyway, he comes back and changes into something dry, puts Link in the warm layered tunic (my link's is dyed pink) but not like, pants ? because I dunno about you but I wouldn't want to try to get tights onto a floppy unconscious body, especially if I was also traumatized from that body recently being a corpse. (when i wrote this link basically owned a pair of tights and some leggings and that was IT. now i have tons of pants though. lol) So Link is basically butt naked other than a shirt. But that's what bedrolls are for. nice and cozy and dry. like pants for your whole body.

As far as the scene where Beedle's like, hesitant about invading Link' privacy, I figured like... Link's not dying or dead anymore, seems not to be in life-threatening danger... so things are calmer in Beedle's mind. So since the immediate danger has passed he has time to think about things like personal privacy and bodily autonomy... So he hesitates. But he still has to clean up Link cause it would be... pretty unsanitary not to at least get _most_ of it off. Link probably needs a real deep soak in a hot bath that Beedle cannot provide, tbh, what with death generally being accompanied by like... shitting oneself. but hey. gotta start somewhere.

and after all that, Link is healed enough to regain consciousness, though he's still in a bit of pain, but once he hits the point of consciousness he's on the home stretch and by the end of the fic is basically fine, if tired. Definitely has two fun new scars. On the plus side, he probably doesn't need to use the bathroom. bet he's starving though.

As another aside, I've never been run through with a sword before nor have I ever died (fortunately), so you'll have to forgive me if aspects are uhh unrealistic. or whatever.


End file.
